In year 10 art we had to do an art piece about ourselves. Dad spent a long time helping me with this one. He used plaster bandage to cast my face as I lay there with straws up my nose so I could breathe, getting hotter and hotter as the plaster set and the vaseline on my face oozed. He showed me how to draw ovals using a string and drawing pins and had already taught us how to use the darkroom so I could print out the photographs. First pic, baby in Ferny Hills before we moved to Rocky. About 2 years old with two favourite dolls, dressed in my skirted togs. With one of the cats, perhaps Tombo. As I appeared in the local paper, dressed as a clown and on stilts after a drama workshop. Made the wig I was wearing out of wool, took forever to sew together. With one of the chooks. We used to tie a long piece of string to one foot and the other end to a tent peg and they happily pecked away on the grass before going back into the coop. Aged about 14, posing so that my brother could practice his photography for school. I did well with my art and it was difficult to choose between art and drama when it came to university preferences. Now I wish I'd stuck with journalism or chosen architecture. Pity I don't believe in re-incarnation.
You might just come back as a chook tied to a tent peg.
ReplyDeletePic 3 of 6 is very reminiscent of India (well the opposite of reminiscent perhaps).
Nice work. And respect to your Dad for his commitment and support to school art projects. Astounding!